


cryptic as the moon

by polyamory



Series: 30 days of tw femslash [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 30 Days of Femslash, Alternate Universe, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, POV Allison, Slow Build, Witch Lydia, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 08:50:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6797332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polyamory/pseuds/polyamory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU in which Allison, the Maid of Gevaudan, enlists the help of Lydia, the local witch, to kill the Beast. As payment Lydia requests Allison's firstborn child. The story goes not quiet as they expect it to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	cryptic as the moon

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in ONE DAY something i've never done before and i'm gonna try to do a thirty days challenge thing where i write 30 FICS in 30 DAYS they'll all be posted in this collection so STAY TUNED and meanwhile enjoy!!  
> brief warning as there is a scene in which Allison gives her blood for a spell but it's described in the least graphic way possible (also yes i made her pass out so i wouldn't have to describe the technical deets of forging steel so sue me)  
> my beta is still always emerson and all remaining mistakes r mine  
> anyways have fun, leave kudos & comments if you like it and oh, this was based on a [tumblr post](http://hedaoftheworld.tumblr.com/post/143056295740/)

Allison never thought she would do this, but the town is dying and she has been chasing this monster for months now and honestly, she's at the end of her rope. And now she's here, standing in front of Lydia's door. Lydia who everyone knows is engaged in witchcraft and other godless arts, Lydia who talks to ghosts and knows people will die before they do.

But Lydia is maybe the only person who can help her now, so she knocks.

The door opens before she's even knocked three times and Lydia smiles at her, not friendly but sharp.

"I've been awaiting you," she says, something like laughter in her voice. She has the upper hand here and she knows it and it pains Allison.

"Did your ghosts tell you that?" Allison spits.

"No, just my common sense. Everybody's hearing stories of you these days, hunting the Beast, are you?" She doesn't wait for Allison to answer. "Losing, are you? I knew you'd come, sooner or later, asking for help."

"So here I am," Allison raises her chin. "Can you help?"

She casts a glance around the room when Lydia turns her back to Allison. It's lit by candles dripping wax all over, and bundles of dried herbs are hanging from the ceiling, more of them in jars lining the shelves, neatly labeled in looping script. There's a bed made up in one corner and a kettle boiling over a fire in the other.

"Help with what?" Lydia asks, looking over her shoulder at Allison.

Allison blushes, caught out in staring, then frowns when she registers Lydia's words.

"Well, what could I possibly need help with?"

"Help with containing it?" She's mucking about something with her kettle, throwing in herbs and feeding the fire.

"Help with killing it," Allison says.

"Good," Lydia finally turns back to her, beckons her closer. "If you're ready to kill it, I can help you."

"Really?"

Lydia tuts. "Why did you come to me, Allison, if you didn't believe I could?"

She's not about to admit that she's so far out of hope that she's gone putting her trust in ghosts, but she gets the feeling Lydia can read it in her anyways.

"So you can kill it?"

"Oh," Lydia grins. "No, no. Kill it? I can't." Allison is about to protest but Lydia cuts her off. "But I can make you a weapon that can."

"A weapon?" Allison frowns. "I have a weapon," she touches the bow slung over her shoulder.

"You've been hunting the Beast with a bow and arrow?" Lydia laughs and outside the window birds startle out of the trees, their cries mixing with Lydia's rusty laughter. "No wonder you've failed so spectacularly."

"Hey," Allison scowls, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"I will make you a spear, Maid of Gevaudan, but what will you give me in return?" Lydia's voice has turned sly, considering.

"Is it not enough a reward for you to see the suffering of our people end?" Allison asks. Lydia only raises her eyebrows, a smirk playing along her lips. It's too much to expect a witch to care about anyone but herself. Allison's shoulders sag. "Anything," she caves in. "I would give anything just to see the people of our town save again, to see the children playing in the streets instead of hiding behind curtains."

Lydia looks at her for a long time, her face unreadable, half hidden in shadows as it is. Then a smile spreads over her face, slow and sure and terrifying.

"As payment for the safety of the town," she pauses, tilts her head, "the safety of the children, you will give me your firstborn child," Lydia pronounces.

There is no arguing with her, Allison knows, no sense in arguing with a witch at all, so all she says is, _"D'accord."_

Lydia's smile widens, showing all her sharp teeth, and it really is unnerving. She spits into her palm and doesn't wait for Allison to do the same before she's grabbing her hand in a slippery handshake.

"That seals the deal. I will come to you when I need you. Now," Lydia drops her hand and gestures behind herself to the kettle boiling. "Do you want to stay for tea?"

Allison flees as fast as she can without running.

 

Two days pass without any word from Lydia and Allison waits anxiously, stuck in a sick cycle of losing patience, ready to storm down Lydia's door demanding something be done, only to remember all the stories about curses laid on those who dared to hurry a witch.

Her patience is rewarded on the third day, when Lydia comes to her door, knocking just as the roosters scream.

Allison is loath to admit that it takes her a considerable amount of blinking before she can open her eyes enough to recognize the woman standing on her doorstep.

"Lydia," she manages, "what are you doing here?"

"Well, what could I possibly be doing here?" Lydia shoots back. "I've come to take you to the woods."

Allison swallows heavily around the stone in her throat. Images flash before her eye of all the things a witch could do with her alone in the woods.

"To cut down a mountain ash tree, you silly," Lydia says with a roll of her eye.

"Oh," Allison breathes.

"Yes, yes," Lydia waves impatiently. "Now come, get dressed, let's go."

"So what do we need a mountain ash tree for?" Allison dares to ask once they're on their way into the thicket of the woods.

"The spear, of course," Lydia says, lifting her skirts to step over a fallen tree. "Made out of mountain ash, infused with wolfsbane, tipped with a pike of steel." She reaches out a hand to help Allison over the tree.

"And that will kill the Beast?"

"If it's wielded wisely," Lydia says with a sly look in her direction. "But yes, if anything can kill the Beast it will be this."

"Then it won't hurt to try," Allison says.

Lydia laughs and looks back at her. "For you it will," she says.

Allison can't tell exactly what her face is doing but it must be something horrified because Lydia laughs, high and delighted, and explains, "The pike will have to be forged with your blood under the light of the full moon."

"My blood?" Allison stops walking to better stare at Lydia. "Don't I already give you my first child? Now you want my blood as well?"

"The blood is not for me," Lydia spits, suddenly fierce. "It's for the pike, for you and for that Beast of yours. But if you're not ready to do what it takes..." She makes as if to turn around, go back to where the village lies behind the trees.

Allison grabs at her arm before she can stop herself, lets go as soon as Lydia turns towards her. She feels as if she's been burned by just that simple touch.

"I'll do it." She wills her voice to come out steady.

"Then there's no problem here," Lydia says and keeps on walking.

Allison follows, what choice does she have, and wonders at the mystery of Lydia. One moment her eyes are kindling like flames, the next her stare is steely, icy cold. Her laughter sounds like rusty nails, her smile curves like a wicked knife. And still her hair falls soft around her face, her cheeks are flushed a lovely shade of rose.

Lydia stops in front of her, gesturing at a tree just to the left.

"This one'll do," she decides, then turns to look at Allison, "don't you think?"

Allison looks at the tree, hung with red berries, a perfectly straight trunk, though not all that tall.

"Great," Lydia goes on when she doesn't reply, clapping her hands together and pulling an ax out of the folds of her skirts. Allison hadn't even realized she was carrying one.

"Here you go," she hands the ax to Allison, "get to work."

"And what will you do?"

"Well, supervise. Make sure you do it right," Lydia says with one of her not-friendly smiles. She hoists herself up on a boulder to the side and looks expectantly at Allison.

"Seems hardly fair," Allison grumbles, but she starts hacking nonetheless.

"I'll do more than my fair share of work later on," Lydia says. When Allison looks up she's inspecting her nails.

"So what are we going to do with the rest of the branches?"

"Oh, I'll take those. The berries, too, can always use those."

"Yeah?" Allison can't help the spark of curiosity that ignites in her chest. "What do you do with them?"

"I'll burn the wood, it's best used as a powder. The berries, dry them or work them into a paste. It's always good to work up reserves. Especially now that winter is coming." She rubs her hands together and breathes on them. Her breath doesn't fog, not yet, but there's icy pattern on the leaves and fog rolling through the forest all around them.

"So," Lydia says a moment later. Her tone is curious in a dangerous way that bodes nothing but trouble for Allison. "Why are you so intent on killing the Beast? There's a whole hunting party of men out there, isn't there?"

Allison scoffs. "More for show than anything else. Most of them would turn and run. Hell, most of them have."

"And yet you, you didn't."

"Oh, I ran, believe me," Allison laughs, bitter and dry.

"But you keep on coming back. Why?" Lydia asks, she's intent like a bloodhound sniffing out a buried secret. "It's not like he's your fault, your," she pauses, "responsibility. Or is he?"

Allison sighs. She know when she's been beat. "He was my brother."

"And you're ready to kill your own brother?"

"He's not my brother anymore. He's barely even a man anymore. Whatever he is, I'm ready to kill it."

Lydia doesn't say anything and when Allison dares to glance at her she finds Lydia leaning forward just so, watching her intently. She raises one eyebrow and Lydia smiles in return, just a twitch at the corner of her mouth.

"Keep going," she says. "You're almost done."

Allison looks down and it's true, there's a deep notch in the wood already. One more swing of the ax and the tree falls. Lydia comes over at once and plucks the berry clusters off, dropping them into her pockets.

They carry the tree back to Lydia's hut and Allison is already brushing her hands off on the fabric of her skirts when Lydia says, "I'll make tea while you cut off the branches." Like it's a fact, like it hasn't occurred to her that Allison might argue. She's disappeared inside before Allison can even open her mouth.

Half an hour later when she's sweaty, and dirty, and surrounded by a mess of branches, Lydia sticks her head out of the window.

"Come on in, tea just boiled," she calls.

Allison knows better than to refuse a witch, so she goes, but she also knows better than to eat or drink anything given to her by a witch, so she warms her hands on the cup Lydia hands her, blows on the steam and does not drink it.

"Why do I even bother with you villagers?" Lydia shakes her head, taking a pointed sip of her tea. "You're all so suspicious."

"Maybe we wouldn't be so suspicious of you if you didn't behave so suspiciously, _witch_ ," Allison can't help but say, the last word dripping from her tongue. She flinches as soon as she's said it, but Lydia laughs like a bark and Allison thinks this might even be her real, honest laugh.

"You've got more tooth than most of them, Allison," she replies, and it sounds like a compliment so Allison says, "Thanks." Never hurts to thank a witch.

"So," Lydia says then, settling in her chair next to the fire. "When can I expect this newborn child of yours?"

"Are you kidding me?" Allison asks, genuinely wonders for a moment. "I don't even have a boyfriend, let alone a husband."

"You don't need a husband to have a child," Lydia says which is a fair point but still–

"I don't have anyone to make a child with," she amends.

Lydia sighs so deep it can't be anything but fake, flicks her hair over her shoulder and looks intently at Allison. "Tell me you at least have your eye on someone."

There's a moment of silence as Allison looks at the dirty hem of her skirts, the fire, out the window, anywhere but at Lydia watching her.

Another sigh. "Well, this has been nice and all, but I should really be getting on with my day and you're a busy woman yourself, aren't you?" Lydia takes Allison's cup back and unceremoniously dumps the tea back into the kettle.

"Come back tomorrow at noon," she instructs and then she's pushing Allison out the door without another word of goodbye.

 

When Allison arrives the next day Allison is already standing in front of her hut, dressed in a dark red cloak. She taps her foot impatiently and as soon as Allison is close enough to hear she says, "Come on, then. You're late already."

"I am not," Allison protests, but it might be slightly after noon already.

Lydia sets off without a reply and Allison has to hurry to catch up with her.

"So what are we doing today?" she asks.

"Going to collect the wolfsbane, of course."

"Right. And then?"

Lydia looks up at her, one eyebrow raised.

"Do you need me to do anything else?" Allison elaborates.

"Hmm, I'll prepare the staff but we'll have to forge the tip together."

"Right, cause it needs my blood," Allison grimaces.

"So you _were_ listening," Lydia smirks.

"And it has to be forged under the moonlight, right?"

"Full moon," Lydia says, "which is two nights from now."

"And then the pike will be ready?"

"Payment outstanding, of course," Lydia's voice turns sharp at the reminder and she cuts a glance up at Allison from under her hood.

"But you'll give me the spear?"

"Are you working on the other part?" Lydia asks back.

"Yes, yes. But it's important that I kill the Beast soon," Allison presses.

"And it's important," Lydia spits, grabbing Allison's arm and whirling her around so they're face to face, Lydia leaning up close so they're nose to nose and Allison can feel her breath when she hisses her next words, "that you pay me back. Soon."

"Or other wise," she goes on, dropping back down, her voice turning saccharine sweet, "you won't see the children playing in the streets again. Or see anything at all, for that matter."

"I _will_ give you my firstborn child, I promise," Allison wants to grab Lydia to make her see how serious she is, but she doesn't dare touch her.

"Good," Lydia smiles like a Venus flytrap. "And I'll check in to keep an eye on your progress." It's more of a threat than a promise, but Allison's shiver is not entirely one of fear.

She opens her mouth to say– something, she's not sure what, but she never finds out because just then they reach a small clearing and Lydia stoops low, letting out a little noise of delight.

"Found it," she smiles, looking up at Allison. "Well, come on, get down here and help me with those." She gestures at the small purple flowers growing all over the clearing. Pulling two knives from the folds of her skirt – really, where does she keep those? – she hands one off to Allison and starts cutting down the flowers.

"How much do you need?" Allison asks after a while, when her knees are starting to hurt and she's got a thick bundle of flowers in the lap of her skirt already.

"As many as I can get. Here, give me those," Lydia takes the flowers from her and settles down in the grass, spreading all the flowers on her lap. As Allison watches, casting glances in between cutting more flowers, she takes out a ball of twine and starts tying the flowers in little bundles, leaving a length of string on one end. Allison brings over the rest of the flowers and Lydia ties those up as well, then ties all the strings together so she can easily carry them all.

When she's done, Allison makes to get up, but Lydia's hand shoots out like a rattlesnake, gripping Allison's wrist in a strong hold. They freeze for a moment, but then Lydia lets go and smiles up at Allison, small and just a little uncertain.

"I brought some food, I thought maybe we could have lunch together. Sit," she pats the spot next to her and Allison sinks back down, watches as Lydia pulls a leather bag and a small flask from her skirt.

"Is that witchcraft or– where do you keep all that?" Allison blurts out, blushing a deep crimson when Lydia looks at her with a grin.

"No witchcraft, just efficient storage space," she says, shaking her head.

"Hm," Allison hums.

"You don't believe me," Lydia says, laughing for real now.

"Well," Allison shrugs, but she's smiling as well. This feels different, easier somehow, like Lydia won't immediately curse her at the first wrong word.

"See, you're the ones interpreting everything I do as witchcraft."

"So we're wrong?" Allison asks, eyebrows raised.

"Well, most of the time," Lydia shrugs. She pulls two slices of bread, a chunk of cheese and an apple out of her bag.

Allison takes the offered slice and regards it suspiciously. It looks like normal bread and it smells like normal bread when she brings it up to her nose.

"My goodness, it's just bread," Lydia sighs. "If I wanted to poison you I wouldn't do it with food that _I_ gave you."

"Wow, that's reassuring, thanks," Allison snorts but she takes the slice of cheese when Lydia holds it out to her. She takes a cautious bite of the bread, barely more than a nibble, and when she doesn't immediately die or turns into a cat she takes a real bite. The taste of it is strong and warm on her tongue, something slightly unfamiliar about it.

"This tastes really good," she manages, mouth still half full.

"Thanks," Lydia laughs, eyes lighting up as she watches Allison eat.

"What's in this?" Allison holds up the bread.

"Just some herbs," Lydia shrugs, and before Allison can freeze up, "that do nothing more than make it taste good. By the gods, Allison, loosen up!"

"Kinda hard to do when you're spending time with a witch."

"Kinda hard to do when you're spending time with a hunter and yet, I manage," Lydia shoots back.

Allison raises her eyebrows at Lydia, mostly because her mouth is too full to speak.

"Not much a stretch between werewolves and witches, is there?" Lydia says with a shrug that's far too nonchalant to be anywhere near casual.

"You're not evil, though, are you?"

"Evil, dear Allison, is very much up to personal interpretation and I know for a fact that there are more than a few people in your beloved town who would very much call me evil."

"Well I don't think you're evil," Allison says with a shrug, and now she's the one feigning nonchalance. "So I won't kill you."

"Well, I still need you to pay up," Lydia replies with a sweet smile. "So I won't kill you."

"Yet," Allison mumbles but Lydia obviously hears because she laughs like bells and whistles.

"Allison, you are far too amusing to kill." And although it should scare her how easily Lydia talks about killing her, the words spread a warmth through her chest that only intensifies at Lydia's small smile.

She takes another bite of cheese so she doesn't have to come up with a reply and when Lydia cuts up the apple, Allison eats the offered slice without hesitation.

 

Two nights later there's a sharp knock on her bedroom window just as Allison debates getting ready for bed or staying up all night waiting for Lydia to show. The moon hasn't risen yet and the lamp outside doesn't provide much light but then again Allison doesn't have much guessing about who the dark figure throwing pebbles at her window is.

"Good you're still awake, I thought you'd forgotten," Lydia calls, far too loud for the night.

"Of course I haven't," Allison hisses back.

"Then why didn't you come?"

"You– you didn't tell me to," Allison frowns.

"Ugh, never mind," Lydia calls. "Just come down, will you? We haven't got much time."

"The night’s still young, Lydia," Allison laughs and closes her window to come downstairs.

When she opens the door to step outside Lydia is still wearing a frown. "The night is not young if you want to forge an entire steel pike in it, Allison," she scolds.

"Alright, alright, let's go then, shall we?" Allison says and takes Lydia's hand, made bold by the cover of night. "Are we going to your hut?"

"Yes," Lydia grumbles but she lets Allison hold her hand all the way there.

They go around back to a part of the yard Allison's never been to. There's the empty grass space on the left side of the house where she cut the branches off the mountain ash tree, and there's a small garden on the right side of the house, she's seen it walking past, but she's never seen the backyard.

There's a tree stump with an ax embedded in it off to one side, and a wooden bench off to the other, but the most part is taken up by a fire pit, enclosed by large stones and filled with black ashes and a small fire already burning in it. Next to it Lydia has laid out a stone mold for the pike and a construction which Allison can only assume is a furnace.

"Have you done this often?" she asks, settling beside Lydia on the ground.

"A few times," Lydia nods, almost absentmindedly as she pulls closer a bowl with a knife resting atop it.

"Enough times to own a furnace," Allison notes.

"Comes in handy sometimes," Lydia says with a pull of her lips that's supposed to be a smile. "Now," she holds out the knife to Allison, blade first. "I'll need your blood."

Allison swallows once, nerves rising like a sea monster from the pits of her stomach. She grabs the knife by the hilt and for a brief moment her hand covers Lydia's, small and cool, before Lydia pulls away.

"How much?" Allison asks and forces herself to meet Lydia's eyes. Her face is a landscape of gold and blue, shadows and fire flickering, fighting for territory, but the spark in Lydia's eyes is all hers.

"I'll say when," she says, the opposite of reassuring, and nudges the knife closer to Allison's forearm.

Allison allows herself one deep breath and then she's cutting into her flesh and her blood flows, dark in the light of the rising moon, into the bowl.

"Lydia," Allison manages, half choked by rising panic, because the bowl is half full already.

"I'll _say_ when," Lydia says again, her voice sharper than the knife in Allison's hand.

Black stars are blooming before her eyes, blocking out the fire, the moon, Lydia's face. She feels Lydia's hands on her arm, cool even against her clammy skin, and then she blacks out.

 

When she comes to she's inside Lydia's hut, lying on what must be a bed. Lydia's bed, she realizes. She tries to sit up, but gentle hands press her back down.

"Careful," Lydia's voice sounds muted in the soft darkness that seems to linger in the hut no matter the time of day outside. "You gave a lot of blood last night."

"What time is it?" Allison asks, trying to get her senses about her.

"Late morning. You passed out and then you slept for a long time, but that's alright. Gave me the time to properly attach the tip to the spear."

"It's done?" Allison tries to open her eyes but the whole world starts spinning when she does so she closes them again.

"All ready for you," Lydia agrees. There's a smile in her voice although Allison's not sure when exactly she learned to recognize that. "Though you probably shouldn't go out tonight."

"I have to–"

"Shh, it can wait another night. You'll be no good to anyone if you're too weak to stand up on your feet, yet alone stand up against the Beast."

Allison knows Lydia's right, frustrating as it is. This time at least she manages to keep her eyes open.

"Now, this is not just tea, I'll admit," Lydia says and she comes into view, holding a small cup. "But it will help you regain your strength and heal quickly. Do you trust me?"

"Yes," Allison says immediately, surprising both of them. But it's true, there's not a spark of doubt in her heart, no creeping thoughts of poison or mind control magic, just the steady burning knowledge that Lydia will help her, that Lydia is her friend.

Lydia who is already sliding one arm under Allison's back to help her sit up, lifting the cup to her lips and giving Allison a moment to inspect its contents before tilting it for her to drink.

The potion doesn't taste bad, just slightly earthy with a texture like the skin on top of hot milk.

"There you go," Lydia says, her voice almost soothing. "That wasn't so bad, was it? Do you think you can stomach some bread? A little water?" She helps Allison lean her back against the wall.

"Water, definitely."

Lydia turns for a moment and comes back holding another cup, larger than the first, and a slice of bread.

Allison takes the water and gulps it down greedily, which makes Lydia smile, but she puts the bread down after just two bites, her stomach twisting like a bow.

Lydia hands her another cup of water, which she drinks slower than the first one, and then a third and then they just sit in silence for a while.

The fire is burning out slowly, embers glowing like amber in the sunlight, and a few candles are casting flickering shadows around the room. It should look creepy, strange and foreign, and Allison should shudder before what hides in those dark corners, but instead it feels familiar, welcome, almost homely. It's warm and the light is low enough that it doesn't hurt her eyes and it smells a little like cinnamon. Allison feels safe. In the den of a witch, hell, in the arms of a witch, and yet she feels safe.

"Thank you, Lydia. For taking of me and for helping me."

"Yeah, well. Don't think I'll forget about payment," Lydia says but there's that small smile on her face again, the one Allison's figured out by now is her real smile.

"Didn't think you would," she grins back.

"And I meant what I said."

"Yeah?"

"About checking in on your progress," Lydia nods, a playful glint in her eye.

"So I guess I'll be seeing a lot more of you?" Allison asks and finds that she looks forward to the prospect immensely.

"You can bet your button nose on it," Lydia grins.

 

After the Beast is dead – and what a grisly affair that is – Allison walks back into town, spear at her side, as the people comes out of their houses to meet her, at once afraid and relieved. Allison's eyes, however, are drawn to one figure at the edge of the crowd hidden between the shadows and the hood of her cloak, Allison imagines she can just see the glint of Lydia's smile, but it must be an optical illusion.

Then Allison blinks, tired and heavy, and when she looks again, Lydia is gone.

 

She's back again at Allison's door one night later, when Allison is just dragging herself home from the town meeting turned celebration. There's a shadow leaning up against the wall when Allison reaches the door, fumbling to fit the key into the lock. A spark of light appears and she can just make out the line of Lydia's brows, the tip of her nose, the upturned curve of her mouth.

"Not going home with anyone?" Lydia asks, mirth dancing across her features like the flicker of a flame.

"You're here," Allison replies, wills it to be a lighthearted joke instead of a painful plea.

"Goodnight, Allison," Lydia says and the spark flashes once and disappears, taking Lydia with it.

 

Two days later Allison walks into her bedroom and almost jumps out of the towel she's wrapped around herself when she see Lydia sitting in a chair in the corner.

"What are you doing here?" she yelps, more surprised and embarrassed than angry or scared.

"Checking in," Lydia says, as if this is nothing out of the ordinary.

"Well, I have a door, you can knock on it," she grouches, but her heart is just not in it.

"I did, but you didn't answer."

"I was taking a bath." Though this should be obvious, seeing as she's half naked and still dripping slightly.

"I see that now," Lydia says and there's something in her voice Allison hasn't heard before, though it's not unpleasant.

When she chances a glance she finds Lydia already watching her, gaze heavy. Instead of saying anything, because she thinks words might just fail her, she turns towards her closet, hiding behind its doors.

"So," Lydia's voice is back to its usual probing tone. "Where are you going tonight? A date?"

"Town hall meeting."

"Again?"

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, the town sustained some pretty serious damage under the hand of the Beast. We're making an effort to rebuild. The town and the community both."

"And you’re their leader now?"

"I'm a helping hand."

"Oh please, Allison, don't sell yourself short. You're far more than just a helping hand," Lydia scoffs.

"No thanks, I'll leave the politics to the politicians. I'm a hunter."

"And a natural born leader," Lydia insists.

Allison frowns. "We're entering a time of peace. The leader should represent that. You only need a fighter as a leader in times of war. This war is over."

"And you won it," Lydia says again and somehow it's just–

"Enough, okay?" Allison just barely keeps from slamming the closet door.

When she finally turns around the room is empty.

 

She's walking across the market when she feels a presence at her side, followed a moment later by a whispering in the crowd.

"Didn't think I'd see you out and about," she says instead of all the other things that wait at the back of her throat like  _'I'm sorry for the way I yelled,'_ or _'Why won't you ever stay long enough to have a proper conversation with me?'_

"Thought I'd take this chance to look at prospective partners with you, eh?" Lydia laughs, elbowing her in the side.

Allison looks at her from the corner of her eyes. Lydia is small even when she's standing up straight but now she's walking hunched over, with her hood pulled low and her shoulders up around her ears. She doesn't like being here, out in the open, surrounded by people who stare and point, but she's doing it anyways. _For you,_ a voice in Allison's head whispers, and she chokes the thought dead.

"Interesting," Lydia murmurs.

"What?" Allison can't help her curiosity. This is the most witch-like, for lack of a better word, she's seen Lydia act since that first day when Allison came to her. It's strange to realize how much that mask has dropped in the meantime, just to see it pulled back on now.

"They admire you and yet they fear you at the same time," Lydia says, nodding out at the people, carefully keeping their distance.

"Being seen with a witch has that effect sometimes," Allison shrugs.

"I can–" Lydia makes as if to pull away but Allison holds on to her elbow before she can make it far, pulling her close.

"They know I had your help in killing the Beast. To them, I might as well be a witch like you."

"How–"

"I told them," Allison says. When Lydia looks at her, almost disbelieving, she shrugs. "No use in not telling them. They would've found out sooner or later."

"People are so sanctimonious," Lydia spits. "At least half of them have come begging on my doorstep, and yet they blame you? At least you used the magic for the greater good and not to make your prick swell."

"People really do that?" Allison laughs, looking down at Lydia with a smile.

"You want a list?" Lydia smiles back, waggling her eyebrows in a way that looks more ridiculous than anything else.

"No, thank you," Allison laughs emphatically.

"And no one else you have your eye on, hm?" Lydia steers them back to her favorite conversation topic.

"Well, actually, there is someone," she doesn't know why she says it but maybe it's the fact that it's the middle of the day and Lydia is walking across the town square with her, letting Allison's hand rest in the crook of her elbow.

"Really, now? Who is it?" Lydia asks, sharp like a thorn hedge, waiting for her to trip up.

"Well, I can't tell you," Allison feigns. "It's bad luck. You of all people should know that."

"Right," Lydia hums, "don't want a curse on your true love, do we?" She sounds like she’s considering it entirely too serious. If there was really a boy, Allison's pretty sure he'd wake up with warts on his dick tomorrow. It makes her smile entirely too much.

"So," Allison says after a moment. "I've got everything I need. Will you walk me home?"

Lydia looks up at her with a smile. "It would be my pleasure," she laughs.

"Oh, the pleasure's all mine," Allison grins as she steers them back towards her home.

 

The next time they meet Allison is the one waiting on Lydia's doorstep. Lydia comes up the road, skirt hems stiff with dried dirt and a bundle of twigs on her back.

"Well, this feels just like old times," Lydia laughs, jogging the last of the way to meet her.

"Are you busy?"

"Just gathering firewood, no potions to tend to."

"Good, so I can take you out?" Allison asks.

"Take me out?" Lydia's eyebrows almost disappear in her hair.

"To the tavern," Allison explains. "We'll get a nice little corner table in the back, far from all the lamps, just how you like it."

"That does sound tempting," Lydia allows. "Let me just put this away," she gestures at her load, "and we can be on our way."

It only takes her a moment and then she's by Allison's side again. Allison sticks out her arm for Lydia to take and she does, her hand settling smoothly against the skin of Allison's forearm.

As they walk, Lydia's fingers find the ropy scar stretching across her arm, just barely ghosting along the edge of it.

"I'm sorry you passed out," she says. "I should've probably warned you about that.

"So you knew that would happen?"

"I made a pretty good guess," she admits. "But I didn't want to scare you away."

"Don't think you could've managed," Allison says, softer than she intends to.

Lydia looks at her then, intent and searching, stopping them still in the middle of the empty street.

"What is this game you're really playing at?" she asks, brows furrowing in a frown.

"What game?" Allison tries to play it coy but Lydia won't have it anymore.

"This," she gestures angrily between them.

Allison sighs, nothing more to it now than telling the truth, really. "Would you believe me if I said that maybe I don't want to find a man, that maybe I was waiting to find _you_?"

"Me?" Lydia frowns again.

"Well, yes."

"But I'm a witch."

"And I'm a hunter," Allison retorts.

"And a natural born leader," Lydia adds, almost involuntarily.

"What I'm saying is I think we would fit together."

"Like a matching pair of socks."

"Exactly," Allison smiles.

"I think we could try that, yeah," Lydia smiles up at her.

"Then may I kiss you now?" Allison asks.

"You may."

 

One year later as the spring begins to rise they kneel together in the garden, digging a soft, warm baby out of the soft, cool earth.

"And look how our seeds have grown," Lydia smiles, looking over Allison's shoulder as the baby lets out its first wailing scream.

"What should we call her?" Allison asks, wrapping the baby in a soft towel and wiping gently at the dirt on its face.

"Ariel," Lydia decides. "Come from the earth, walk through the fire and into the sea."

"Take her. After all," Allison draws herself up on her feet. "My firstborn child belongs to you," she says, holding the squirming babe out to Lydia.

"She really does, doesn't she?" Lydia says, tucking Ariel into the crook of her arm.

"Just like my heart and the rest of my life," Allison says, just to see that small smile bloom on Lydia's face again.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr at [twlesbians](http://www.twlesbians.tumblr.com)


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